A New Shadow
by WiseSurprise
Summary: After the War of the Ring, Aragorn is crowned King of Gondor with Legolas as his Consort. Seven years in what has so far been a peaceful reign, turns sour when trouble begins to brew and a new shadow threatens to shroud Middle Earth in darkness. Relationships are tested and leadership is questioned as Aragorn and Legolas are thrown into a mission to rescue their son from the chaos.
1. Chapter 1

_**I know I'm like a decade late, but I've recently jumped aboard the Aralas train and needed to write my own fic! LOL This story is actually a combination of my idea for a novel I'm working on and wanted to test-run in fic form and from the very short sequel J.R.R. Tolkein started for Lord of the Rings titled, you guessed it, A New Shadow! And as such, I do not own these characters, he does. (Except for my original charcters obviously!) I hope you enjoy! Please read and review! I need to know if I should bother continuing it!**_

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><p>As the morning light began to stream through the curtains in the Royal Bedchamber, the King of Gondor and Anor did little to suppress his groan. His troubled mind wanted nothing more than a few extra hours of rest, especially after the eventful week he had just had. Seven years had passed since he was crowned and he was pleased to discover that despite his initial reluctance, ruling came natural to him. Of course it has never been easy; being responsible for an entire kingdom and its people is no small burden, but it is one he has managed to bear wisely, justly, and compassionately so far. By defeating Sauron and claiming his right to the throne, he was able to bring a long-awaited peace to the land….or so he thought. As of late, for reasons he knew not, that peace was being disturbed. In the past month alone, more robberies, altercations, and even murders have taken place in Gondor than at any other point in his reign. The cells were currently filled with criminals still awaiting his judgment, more guards had been placed within the streets and the King's House, all the while Aragorn, his Consort and his Council are trying to come up with a means for restoring order. As can be imagined, sleep has been eluding him on most nights. If not for his husband, he probably wouldn't be getting any sleep at all.<p>

Speaking of which, Aragorn was disappointed by the absence of another body against his own. The King of Men raised his arms in a stretch before turning on his side to look at his Consort. The elf lay on the far opposite side of the large bed, his pale back facing the man and long silky hair strewn about his pillow in wonderful disarray. Aragorn stared at the steady rise and fall of his husband's ribs, indicating that the blond was still lost in sleep. It had been odd at first, watching the elf sleep. Elves don't need to sleep like humans do; but then again, Legolas was not the typical elf. He chose a mortal life in order to be with Aragorn - a choice the man did not wish for him to make but he did so nonetheless- and as such, he now required sleep. During the quest, the elf hardly ever rested. On a few occasions, Aragorn watched as he had slipped into reverie, his eyes glazing over as he took the time to restore the strength in his body and mind. For someone who was not familiar with the ways of the elves, it would've been a strange sight indeed. However, the sight had the opposite effect on Aragorn - it comforted him. Seeing his love at peace had offered him his own peace, especially during the times of turmoil and uncertainty that they had faced during the War of the Ring. But now, since giving up his immortality, the elf slept every night next to his husband. The fatigue had troubled him at first because it was a sensation he had rarely experienced in his long life. He tried fighting it until Aragorn convinced him that it was to be expected, and when he finally closed his eyes, it was Aragorn who became unsettled. Seeing his eyes closed in sleep only reminded him that one day, they would be closed in death.

The thought of losing Legolas brought Aragorn back to the present, and slowly, he scooted his way to the middle of the bed before reaching out to wrap his arms around his husband's waist, one hand gliding up to a smooth chest, and pulling him close. Legolas hummed at the movement and placed a hand on top of Aragorn's, but didn't open his eyes. When the elf's back was pressed firmly up against the man's chest, Aragorn gave him a quick squeeze and nuzzled the hair at his neck.

"Good morning, _meleth_," the king whispered into a pointed ear, sending a shiver down the blonde's side.

Legolas let out a quiet yawn before turning in the man's arms so that he could face him. When blue eyes met grey, both smiled warmly and the elf lifted his head to give his husband a chaste kiss on the mouth.

"Good morning to you too, _herven_," Legolas said as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

Aragorn placed a light kiss on the elf's forehead while gently stroking the smooth planes of his back. Legolas gave a contented sigh and then returned the embrace, closing his eyes once more and laying his head on his husband's broad chest.

"Let us stay like this for the rest of the day," the man suggested, feeling the elf smile in response.

"You know we cannot," Legolas chided, "or else we'll have a very disappointed son on our hands."

At the mention of their son, Aragorn moved his hand from the elf's back down to his stomach and traced the thin scar from which their child had been brought into this world. Aragorn remembered that day all too well. Their son had been a blessing from the Valar; a precious gift given in gratitude for saving the free peoples of middle earth. After the initial shock of the pregnancy, came the joy, then after the joy, came fear. As Legolas's belly begun to swell, it suddenly hit Aragorn that the child would have to be cut out of his husband's body. He was afraid Legolas would not survive the surgery, or worse - that he'd have to choose between his spouse and his child. It seems loosing Legolas has always been his greatest fear. Luckily, his fears did not come to pass. Legolas was surrounded by capable elven healers, as well as the healing hands of his king, and made a quick recovery. Once he was assured his husband was well and alive, the joy that had left the man was returned. Their son, Eldarion, was their greatest source of pride and happiness. He was an exceedingly curious boy; his wide blue eyes always filled with wonder. He possessed a kindness more strong and pure than anyone Aragorn had ever known. At times, he exerted a wisdom that far surpassed his youth, spouting off phrases or advice that left his elders stunned. But best of all, he was affectionate. Not a day went by without him telling his parents he loved them and showering them with hugs and kisses. Neither of them could imagine a life without their precious five year old in it. He was well worth, or perhaps even more so, all the late nights, spit-ups and soiled cloths they had to endure. That was why Aragorn had decided earlier in the week to indulge the boy.

For his safety, his parents never allowed him outside the city walls, but the elf in him had been longing to explore the lands beyond the city. With some convincing from Legolas, Aragorn decided the three of them would take a short camping trip in the nearby forests of South Ithilien. They would be traveling alone, as a family, despite the protests of their guards and Council. Aragorn trusted in his own abilities, as well as his husband's, to protect themselves should the need arise. After all, they had fought in and survived the greatest war Middle Earth had ever witnessed. In his place, Faramir, his most trusted friend, steward and advisor, would be in charge. All plans were in order, provisions mostly packed, and the trio was set to leave…today.

"I had almost forgotten," the king grumbled, resting his forehead against the elf's.

Hearing the hint of complaint in his husband's voice, Legolas drew his head back to give the man a stern look.

"Don't be that way," he warned, "You promised him. Besides, this will prove to be a nice reprieve that the both of us are very much in need of."

"_Amin hiraetha_," Aragorn sighed, "I'm afraid I've grown too accustomed to soft beds. I won't deny I dread the thought of sleeping on a cold, hard ground again."

Legolas laughed at the declaration, the sound of it bringing a smile to the king's face as well.

"Becoming spoiled, are we, _Ranger_?" the elf teased.

"No more than you, elf!" the man quipped, once again capturing his husband in a tight embrace and bringing their lips together.

"Ada! Papa!"

The couple separated at the sound of their son's voice and then turned to watch the unruly mass of brown curls that struggled to climb up the sheets. They both chuckled when the boy made it on the bed, falling face-forward with his little hands clenched tightly in the sheets. When he righted himself, his cheeks were rosy from the effort and he flashed his parents a toothy grin before clambering over to join the pair. The small boy jumped into the space between the two and wrapped his tiny arms around the neck of his elven father, giggling all the while.

"Careful, _ion-nin_," Legolas chided as he cradled Eldarion to his chest.

When Legolas let go, the boy then flung himself around Aragorn's neck, causing the man to let out a surprised "Ooof!"

"Eldarion," Aragorn began, "What did your Ada just tell you?"

The boy pulled away, having the decency to look slightly guilty.

"Sorry, Ada. Sorry, Papa," he apologized, "I'm just really happy to see you!"

The elf shook his head fondly.

"Sweet boy, you see us every day."

"I know! But today's a special day!" he exclaimed as he looked at his parents expectantly.

There was a twinkle in Aragorn's eyes as he turned to his husband.

"What could he possibly be speaking of, Legolas?" he asked.

"Hhmm," Legolas goaded, "I'm not sure, _meleth_. It's certainly not his birthday. I distinctly remember that was three months ago."

When the pair pretended to be looking thoughtful, Eldarion started to giggle.

"No, silly! We're going camping!"

"Oh?" Aragorn teased, "Who said?"

"You said, Papa!" the boy replied, plopping down into the man's lap and poking him in the chest.

"Ah, yes," said the king while ruffling his son's hair affectionately, "Now I remember!"

"Well," began Legolas as he stepped out of bed, "If that's the case, then we had best be getting ready! Come, _ion_. Let's get you dressed."

Aragorn smiled as the child scampered across the bed and lept into his husband's outstretched arms. He watched as the pair made their way into the adjoining room in which their son stayed, the boy chattering excitedly while the elf murmured his agreements. Reluctantly, the king, too, got up. He sifted through the garments in his wardrobe, pulling out a simple tunic and trousers before grabbing his traveling cloak. He ran his fingers over the elven broach that he had kept all these years. He recalled all the dangers and trials he had faced the last time he had worn it. As he heard his husband and son laughing in the next room, he hoped he wouldn't have to face such things again.

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><p>Moric hastened to the tavern on the lower streets of Gondor, his cloak billowing behind him as he ran. When he arrived, he nodded to the guards that had recently been posted outside and made his way in. He scanned the room; as expected, there were not a lot of patrons this early in the day. Needless to say, he quickly found who he was looking for.<p>

"Where is she?" he asked the red-haired man leaning against the wall.

"Down there," he jerked his head towards the small hallway just passed the bar, "Last on the left."

Moric brushed passed the man and stopped in front of the specified room before giving the door three light knocks.

"You may enter," called a soft voice from within.

Stepping through the threshold, he noticed Hadria standing in the center of the room, gazing intently out of the window.

"You called for me, my lady?" he asked as he approached her from behind.

"I did," she answered, turning to face him, "I have had another vision."

His eyes widened at the admission.

"What have you seen?" he questioned eagerly.

She closed her eyes, replaying the images in her mind. _Fire. Death. Darkness. Hope._

"He is not gone," she revealed, "A part of him still lingers. A new shadow is emerging, buying its time before covering the world with its darkness. If we are to act, we must do so very soon. Before _they_ do."

When she opened her eyes, she found Moric was watching her solemnly. He let out a sigh before nodding, determination sweeping over his features.

"What do we need?"

She turned her gaze back towards the window, eying the forests beyond.

"The boy."

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><p>"Slow down, son," scolded Aragorn, "You're making a mess! I promise you, the forests aren't going anywhere."<p>

"Leave him be, Aragorn," retorted Legolas as he wiped the jam off of his son's face, "He's excited is all. Besides," he continued, gathering some jam on his finger and smearing it on his husband's nose, "a little jam never hurt anyone."

The king glared halfheartedly at his laughing spouse and son while wiping the mess off of his own face.

"Ganging up on me, are we?" Aragorn accused, scooping a blob of jam into his own hand and aiming it at the elf, "Well, we'll just see about that…"

Legolas's eyes widened in realization, "Don't - "

"Your Majesty?"

The family froze as Faramir strode into the dining hall, eyebrows raised in amusement as he took in the scene of his king holding a handful of jam in the air.

Aragorn cleared his throat while Legolas smirked in triumph.

"Faramir," greeted the man, grabbing the nearest cloth and wiping his hand clean, "What can I do for you?"

Faramir approached the table at which the trio was seated and bowed his head.

"I just came to inform you that your weapons have been retrieved from the armory as requested and your packs have been prepared. They'll be in your rooms whenever you are ready."

"Thank you, Faramir," said Aragorn, "We'll be leaving as soon as we are finished here."

"Very well. Would you like me to gather you an escort to the gates of the city?"

"No. The fewer people who know of our absence, the better."

"A wise decision," agreed the steward, "I bid you all a safe trip. I assure you everything in Minas Tirith will stay in order while you are away."

"Thank you, Faramir," said Legolas.

With a final nod, Faramir began walking back the way he had come until he was forced to a halt by something wrapping around his legs. He looked down to see Eldarion staring up at him, his little arms wrapped firmly around the man's calves.

"I'll miss you, Faramir," confessed the boy.

The steward smiled at the child he had grown so fond of and patted the top of his head.

"I'll miss you too, little prince. Have fun. And look after those two," he said, jerking his head in the direction of the man and elf.

"I will!" giggled the boy before releasing the man and running back to his seat.

Faramir shared a knowing smile with the royal couple before exiting the hall and heading for the council room.

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><p>As the royal family made their way back inside their rooms, they were pleased to see their packs waiting for them on the bed as promised. They had decided not to bring too much, only the essentials - bedrolls, a spare set of clothing, small cooking utensils, flint, some food, and of course, their weapons. Once everything was strapped in place, they headed towards the door before Eldarion stopped them.<p>

"I almost forgot!"

The boy ran into his rooms, emerging a few minutes later with the wooden dagger he had received for his birthday, tucking the object safely in his belt. Pleased with himself, he returned to his spot between his fathers and grabbed each of their hands.

"Okay, I'm ready now!

"Then let's be off!" said Legolas, leading the trio out of the door.

The walk out to the citadel took longer than they had expected. Eldarion insisted that he couldn't leave without telling his nursemaid, Tilly, goodbye. Afterwards, the boy felt the need to bid farewell to every servant they came across. Patient as ever, Aragorn and Legolas watched the exchanges fondly, allotting the boy however much time he needed. When at last they reached the citadel they were approached by Ronan, Captain of the Guard.

"Your Majesties, young prince," he greeted, "Lord Faramir informed me that you had no desire for an escort to the gates. Nonetheless, I've ordered the guards that are stationed there to send word once you've reached it. It would put my mind at ease knowing you have made it through the city safely."

The king grimaced at that last statement. Not that he wasn't grateful for the concern, but the fact that his safety and that of his family's was not guaranteed within his own city unsettled him a bit.

"You have our thanks, Ronan," Aragorn replied, clapping the other man on the shoulder.

Maneuvering through the city was surprisingly easy. As well as being necessary for their trips, the cloaks were also intended to be a disguise. And while being out of royal garb did help to detract attention, they didn't go completely unnoticed. After all, the number of man-elf pairings with a child was nonexistent within the city aside from the royal family. Whenever they were recognized, the pair would nod and smile graciously and continue on their way.

As he was with most things, Eldarion was completely fascinated by the city. His mouth was agape as he took in the new sights. If he was like this now, Legolas couldn't wait to see his reaction to the wilds. However, as they made their way down to the lower levels, the streets became less and less busy. Several businesses appeared to be closed, there were quite a few homes that had boarded up their windows, and on the rare occasion that someone was out and about, they refused to make any eye contact. Legolas felt very uneasy as his eyes darted about scanning for any sign of the danger that he felt was near.

"Papa? Ada?" Eldarion asked, "Where is everybody?"

The man and elf locked gazes and Legolas could see that his husband was having concerns similar to his own.

"They're probably all in their homes, son. Perhaps they haven't a reason to be out today," Aragorn answered, his voice not conveying his fears for the sake of his child.

As they continued along, Legolas couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. He looked to either side, peering down the various streets before coming to the conclusion that he was just being paranoid. For reassurance, he turned to glance behind them and nearly gasped at what he saw. A large man with red hair and a grey cloak was standing in the middle of the street, sword drawn. When the elf spotted him, he smirked before turning and running down a nearby alley.

Legolas picked up his son, positioning the boy on his hip and moved closer to Aragorn. The man gave his husband a questioning look when he noticed fear in the other's eyes. He wrapped his arm around the elf's shoulders reassuringly.

"What is wrong?"

As Legolas made to answer, he was interrupted by a woman's cry,

"Thief! That man is a thief! Stop him!"

They turned in the direction of the voice to see an older woman pointing frantically at a figure that was fleeing in the distance.

Aragorn reached for his sword, fully intending to chase after the accused criminal but was stopped by a hand grabbing his wrist.

"The guards will handle it," Legolas stated.

Sure enough, as they faced back in the direction they were heading, a small group of four guards were hurrying towards them. The trio stepped off to the side to let the troop pass and stared after them. Eldarion, who had buried his face in the elf's neck at the commotion, raised his head up, eyes shining with uncertainty.

"Ada, what's happening? I want to get out of here," he whined.

Legolas couldn't agree more with his son's wishes. He, too, wanted to get out of these streets before the boy had to witness any more trouble or worse, be involved in it. The elf gently pressed Eldarion's head back down to his shoulder.

"It's nothing to worry about _ion-nin_," he assured, "Pretty soon we'll be under an open sky, chasing the wind and talking to the trees."

The boy gasped and lifted his head once more, "The trees can talk, Ada?"

"Oh yes," answered the elf, tapping his son on the nose, "If you know how to listen."

"What do they say?"

Aragorn felt relieved as his husband distracted their son with talk of trees. To be truthful, he welcomed the distraction as well. He hadn't realized the extent of the discontent within his very city. Tension hung in the air like a drop of dew on a blade of grass, growing heavier and heavier until it would eventually fall and burst into chaos. He began to question yet again whether or not he should really be leaving, even if only for a brief period of time. He didn't voice these concerns, though. He knew what Legolas would say; he had promised his son and he never breaks a promise. The more he thought about it, the more this trip seemed beneficial. He would have a chance to wind down, enjoy his family, and clear his thoughts so that he could return well-rested, mind restored and efficiently address the maladies so obviously plaguing his people.

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><p>By the time the family reached the Gate, they all felt a little more at ease and were anxious to leave the city behind them. However, when Aragorn noticed that only two guards were positioned at the gate, he once more grew worrisome. The entrance to the city was always more heavily guarded than this. Remembering the Captain's words, Aragorn approached a guard at the gate who bowed as he drew near.<p>

"My Lord."

"Where are the rest of the guards?" demanded the king.

"A fight broke out at a tavern down the street so we sent some of our men to handle it," the guard replied, "Another troop is searching for a pair of robbers who broke into a family home this morning and made off with a young boy."

Aragorn ran a weary down his face at the news while Legolas hugged Eldarion all the tighter.

"Very well. Please report to your Captain and inform him that the princes and I have made it safely through the city," ordered the king.

"Right away, my Lord."

With another bow, the guard turned and began his trek up to the citadel. Motioning to Legolas to wait for a moment, Aragorn walked up to another guard who was surprised when the king grasped his shoulder and leaned in close.

"I want you to make note of anyone who leaves and enters the city during my absence. If we are not back in one week, assume the worst and send a scouting party. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," the guard straightened immediately, wanting to prove to his king that he would take his assignment seriously.

"Thank you. And as soon as the other troops return, tell them that I want no less than a dozen guards at the gate at all times."

With a meaningful look and a final pat on the shoulder, the man returned to his family, one of which was eying him curiously.

"What did you tell him?" asked Legolas.

"I was just taking some precautions," answered the man as he took his son from the elf's arms and placed him on his shoulders before walking through the gate of the city. Legolas looked after his husband, annoyed and confused at the vague answer he had received until he willed his legs to move and catch up with his family.

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><p>A few hours had passed since the royal family's departure from the city. Dyllon had informed his Captain of their safe parting, as instructed, before returning to his post at the gate. He sighed when he saw the rest of his fellow guards had not returned from their tasks. The only guard at the gate was Verrill who nodded at his arrival.<p>

"The king wants there to be a dozen guards here while he is away. We need to inform Ronan when we change stations tonight."

"Indeed. Any disturbances since I left?"

"None. Though our brothers in arms seem to be having a trying time since they have failed to return."

"My thoughts exactly!" boomed a voice off to the side, the accent heavy.

The two guards turned to find large, cloaked man approaching them slowly. Arrogance exuded from his gait and he examined his nails nonchalantly. The guards straightened their posture and grasped the hilt of their swords as the stranger drew closer, hood still up.

"Reveal yourself and state your business," ordered Verrill.

The man huffed, "My business is my own. Why should I have to tell you?"

"It's the king's orders," Verrill replied, unsheathing his sword.

They could see the man smirk from under his hood before he drew back and spat at the guards' feet.

"That's what I think about King Elessar and his orders," hissed the man.

"Hold your tongue!" instructed Dyllon, now unsheathing his own weapon, "Or we'll be forced to arrest you for your treacherous words!

The man began to laugh, a low, guttural sound that caused his shoulders to shake.

"Who will apprehend me?" he jeered, "You two? No, no. It'll take more than that."

"Nonsense! You're outnumbered," exclaimed Verrill.

The man grinned and as if on cue, five more men stepped out of the shadows and onto the street. The two guards exchanged a troubled glance.

"I brought company!" announced the man, throwing his arms in the air, "You see, I expected a lot more guards with all the chaos happenin' recently. What sort a king leaves his gates poorly defended while he sneaks away like a thief in the night?"

"Silence!" shouted Dyllon, angered by the traitorous words seeping from the man's mouth.

The man laughed again, this time joined by his companions who had begun to spread out and form a circle around the pair of guards.

"I'm afraid, my dear fellows" began the man as he pulled out a sword of his own, "That it's you two who will soon find yourselves silent. Eternally."

The guards eyes' widened and they soon found themselves descended upon by the armed vagrants.

The struggle was brief, though not easy. The guards managed to dispose of two men before they were disarmed and forced to kneel. Their helmets were removed and knives placed to their throats as the cloaked man stood before them.

"You want to know my business?" he teased, crouching in front of the glaring guards, "I'm going to give  
>Gondor the king it deserves."<p>

With an affirming glance at his companions, the knives were dragged across the guards' throats. He watched as blood bubbled out of the slits and panicked eyes lost their focus.

Standing up, the cloaked man addressed his cohorts.

"So it has begun. Let us leave before the others return."

With that, the men scurried through the gate and made for the wilds.

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><p><em><strong>Translations: (correct me if I'm wrong)<strong>_  
><em><strong>Meleth - Love, Lover, My Love<strong>_  
><em><strong>Herven- husband<strong>_  
><em><strong>Amin hiraetha - I am sorry<strong>_  
><em><strong>Ada - daddy<strong>_  
><em><strong>ion-nin - son, my son<strong>_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Here's chapter 2! The plot thickens! My classes start back tomorrow so I'm not yet sure how that will affect my writing schedule but fear not; I won't abandon this! Enjoy & Please review! You have no idea how motivating any type of comment is! **_

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><p>"Keep up, Eldarion!" Legolas called over his shoulder as the trio trudged up a hill.<p>

Aragorn glanced back to find his son trying his best to catch a butterfly. It was almost difficult to spot the child as his head barely peeked over the tall grass. He huffed at his father's call and watched in disappointment as the creature flew away. Chuckling, the man paused and held out his hand as the boy wiped the hair out of his eyes and hurried to join his parents. Legolas smiled when he felt a tiny hand find its way into his own and peered down at the child.

"Are we almost there, Ada?" he asked excitedly, eyes alight with hope.

The elf stared straight ahead, squinting in a way that told Aragorn he was utilizing his superior elven sight to determine the distance between their current location and the river.

"We're very close, _ion-nin_," Legolas answered, "We'll reach the Anduin before sunset."

Aragorn looked up to see the sun still sitting high in the sky. It was already late in the afternoon. If they were to reach the river before sunset then they should have no more than an hour left to walk. His suspicions were confirmed as the family reached the top of the hill and paused to admire the view. Below them was a green field of clover. The grass swayed with every burst of wind, creating gentle waves in a sea of grass. Up ahead began a long stretch of lush forest, the river lying somewhere within. They had decided that they would make camp up from the bank, nestled between the waterway and the trees. The more he thought about preparing camp with his son, the more excited he became. He hadn't done this in so long, but he still knew what to do and how to do it. He was looking forward to teaching Eldarion all he knew; let him experience first-hand what life had once been like for his Papa and Ada.

He turned his gaze to Legolas to find that the other had his eyes shut. The elf smiled as a gust of wind lifted his hair off of his shoulders and he took in a long, deep breath. He looked serene, at peace. A twinge of guilt swept over the man at the sight. It was nice to see his husband out in the wilds. After all, he was a wood elf. His very essence thrived on being amongst the meadows and the trees, feeling their energy, hearing their songs. He didn't have that in Minas Tirith. Instead, he was indefinitely surrounded by stone. Legolas had never complained to Aragorn, of course he wouldn't. But, the man could tell that the elf sometimes felt out of his element in the city of men. It amounted to one more thing Legolas had sacrificed for Aragorn's love and the man regretted that he hadn't taken Legolas out on excursions like this one more often. Perhaps that was why the elf had been so adamant about taking this trip in the first place; not just for his son's sake, but for his own.

As if sensing his thoughts, Legolas opened his eyes to find the man looking at him with an expression on his face that he couldn't quite read. He smiled at him; a warm smile that eased the king's mind and lifted his spirits.

Still looking at his husband, Legolas spoke, "Eldarion? Have I ever told you how slow of a runner your Papa is?"

Aragorn raised an eyebrow, clearly unamused, as his son hid a giggle behind his hands and looked up at his father.

"No," he answered, "You haven't!"

"I haven't?" asked Legolas, his tone playful, "Well how about I just show you!"

Before Aragorn could register what was happening, Legolas had lifted the boy onto his shoulders and took off down the hill. Laughing, the man accepted the unspoken challenge and took off after them. To be fair, Aragorn was a fit man. His ability to run fast and for long periods of time exceeded that of most men, but Legolas was no man. As an elf, he was much lighter on his feet and as swift as the wind.

"Hurry, Ada!" the boy squealed as he looked behind him, "Papa's catching up!"

The boy's shriek only drove both males all the faster. The chase exhilarated them both, allowing them to release the tension that had built up over the last few months and run away, if only for a moment, from the problems that weighed heavily on their minds. This time, Legolas looked back at his husband and flashed a mischievous grin when he noticed the man's labored breathing.

"First to the tree line wins!" he announced.

To Aragorn's surprise, and disappointment, the elf ran even faster, causing the man to lose the distance he had gained on the pair. Growling, he willed himself to pick up the pace. Before too long, he was back on the elf's heels. Seeing how close the man was behind them and how close they were to the trees in front of them, Legolas plucked his son off of his shoulder and planted him on the ground.

"Go, Eldarion!" he encouraged, "Run!"

Screeching in delight, the boy ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. When he was a mere arm's length away from the elf, Aragorn dove and caught his husband about the waist. Legolas yelped as the pair fell to the ground, the man turning so that he landed with the elf on top of him. Both dissolved into a fit of laughter as they fought to catch their breath. Up ahead, they heard their son shouting in triumph.

"I made it! I won! I won!"

Legolas shook his head fondly as he peered down at his disheveled husband. The man brought up his hand to tuck a stray hair behind the elf's ear.

"Don't ever try to run away from me, elf," he said, half teasing, half serious, "I won't let you."

"Don't worry," Legolas answered, running his fingernails across the man's stubbly jaw, "I never intend to."

Of course Aragorn never doubted his husband's loyalty, but it still lightened his heart to hear him profess it. Holding the back of his head, the man gently brought the elf down for a kiss. The kiss was short-lived, however, as their son soon pounced on his Ada's back and peeked over the elf's shoulder to look down at Aragorn.

"You came in last, Papa! Ada was right," the boy gloated, causing Legolas to smirk.

"That race was hardly fair," Aragorn defended as he rose up on his elbows, "Your Ada had a head start."

Eldarion seemed to ponder those words as the elf sat back and drew the boy in his lap before looking up at the blond and exclaiming, "He's right, Ada! You cheated!"

Legolas stared at his husband in indignation while the man laughed.

"Look what you've done, Aragorn. Turned my own son against me."

"You can't fault the boy for stating facts, _melamin_," the man answered as he stood and helped the elf on his feet.

"I guess this means a rematch is in order," Legolas suggested.

"Indeed," agreed the king, "We'll set up a time and date, make it official."

"I'll be the judge!" volunteered the child, raising a hand in the air and waving it enthusiastically.

"And so you shall!" Aragorn said as he picked the boy up and spun him around once, "But what do you say to our continuing our way into the wood, hm?"

As if suddenly remembering where they were, the boy gasped and squirmed to be put down. When his feet touched the earth, he sprinted towards the trees, shouting over the wind, "Come on, Papa! Come on, Ada!"

Joining hands, the couple shared an amused glance before following their son into the thicket of trees. When the pair breached the forest, they found Eldarion with his eyes closed and tiny palms pressed up against the trunk of a large tree. From its size alone, it was apparent that the tree was very old; a witness to many events in its long life. They watched as the boy suddenly opened his eyes in astonishment and gazed up along the length of the tree.

"I can hear them!" he exclaimed as he turned to his fathers.

"What do they say?" Aragorn asked, pleased that his son's elfish abilities were not hindered by his mannish blood.

"They are welcoming us," the boy answered as he wrapped his arms around the tree, "Can you hear them, Ada?"

"I can," the elf answered while looking up at the many branches that blocked the view of the sky, "They also offer their protection."

"Let us hope that we won't need it," Aragorn replied grimly before tugging on his husband's hand and leading his family deeper within the forest.

* * *

><p>The gate to Minas Tirith was surrounded by a crowd of disturbed onlookers. Men shook their heads in disbelief, others were shouting in outrage. Women held a hand over their mouths in shock and shielded the eyes of the children. Ever since a passerby spotted the dead bodies of the two guards just under an hour ago, people flocked to the scene to see it for themselves.<p>

"Out of the way! Move aside!"

Armored guards worked their way through the crowd, people hastily moving aside to provide a clear pathway. As they came upon the crime scene, an officer of higher rank stepped forward and knelt beside the bodies. His attention was automatically drawn to their cut throats and he bowed his head in sympathy. No longer able to bear the weight of their lifeless stares, the officer reached out a hand and closed the eyes of each of his fallen comrades. At this point, he was used to death. He fought in the War of the Ring; he'd slain many a foe and witnessed many a friend be killed. Despite his experience, it was never easy to see someone you fought beside, cared about even, be murdered. And that was exactly what had transpired here. Dyllon and Verrill had been executed and he wouldn't rest until their killers were brought to justice. Standing up, he squared his shoulders and faced his men.

"You five – stay here and guard the gate! No one is leaving this city until we get to the bottom of this. I'll need some of you to transport the bodies up to the citadel and let the Captain know what has happened here!"

The officer was still shouting out orders as Moric maneuvered his way to the back of the crowd and headed for the street corner where Hadria and their men were waiting.

"What is going on?" the woman asked as he approached, her brows furrowed in concern.

"The guards that were stationed at the gate are dead. Their throats were sliced."

Hadria cursed under her breath and ran a weary hand through her thick waves.

"We're too late!" she hissed, "We need to get out of the city now or we'll never reach them!"

"That won't be easy," Moric warned, "They're not letting anyone leave."

Hadria looked away. Her eyes darted back and forth and the man knew she was trying to figure out a way around this unexpected obstacle. Finally, she stood straight and lifted her chin haughtily.

"Then we're just going to have to improvise."

With that, she began walking towards the crowd and Moric stared after her in confusion.

"Wait! What do you think you're doing?"

She ignored his calls and kept walking. With a low growl, Moric turned to their other two companions and beckoned them to follow. Hadria shoved her way to the front of the horde. She eyed the guard who appeared to be in charge before stepping outside of the cluster of people.

"Officer!" she cried, "Officer! I know who did this!"

Moric stared at her incredulously, staying within the safety of the crowd as he watched the scene before him play out.

The officer gave her a skeptical look before approaching her.

"What did you just say?" he asked as he looked her up and down.

"I think I may know who done this," she confessed, "And I would like to offer my help."

The officer looked up to see how the nearest onlookers were watching them intently and he grabbed the woman by the upper arm and guided her just out of hearing distance.

"Tell me your name and what you think you know," he ordered.

Never once lowering her gaze, she took in a deep breath and answered the man.

"My name is Hadria," she began, "I live with my brother, Huron, at the tavern and inn that he runs just down the street. I also work as a waitress there. Last night, a group of men came in and all ordered drinks. I served their table so I caught snippets of information from their discussion. The man who did the most talking is named Rueben. He's a blacksmith, I believe. Big fellow, red hair, wears a cloak. He comes often and I…" she paused, "…I know him well. I heard him say that he caught word that the king and his family were leaving for a trip today and he meant to follow."

The officer's eyes widened at that and he stepped closer to the woman, hand catching her wrist.

"If you heard this, why didn't you say anything to the guards?" he pressed, "Your king's safety was threatened and you did nothing?"

She looked down for a moment as if ashamed before locking gazes with the officer once more.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't exactly know what was going on. I told you, I only caught snippets of the conversation. It wasn't my business to be listening in the first place! I was scared."

The officer released her after a few moments, convinced by the contrition he saw in her eyes.

"Very well," he finally said, "Thank you for telling me. Now, be on your way."

If what she said was true, then the men who murdered Dyllon and Verrill had fled the city and were potentially pursuing the king and his family. He needed to organize a scouting party to go after them and he needed to do it now. As he began walking toward another group of guards, Hadria called after him.

"Please," she said, "Let me help you."

He stopped and glanced at her over his shoulder before turning once more to face her completely.

"This is an official matter," he stated, "Commoners such as yourself are not to be involved."

He meant those words as a dismissal, but as he made to walk away again, she continued.

"There is a cottage."

Sighing, he shut his eyes and hung his head before straightening himself and approaching her a third time.

"Where is there a cottage?" he asked, uncertain as to where the woman was going with this.

"Within the forest of Ithilien," she replied, "Rueben uses it when he goes on hunting trips. I've…He's taken me there before. I can lead you to it."

The pair stared at each other; Hadria gauging the officer's reaction while he, in turn, was gauging the truth behind her words.

"Fine," he complied, "I'll organize a scouting party and you will join us. Your job will be to lead us to this so-called cottage and," he stepped closer, their faces a mere inch apart, "if you prove to be lying, I'm afraid the consequences will be very severe. Do I make myself clear?"

"Very," she answered with conviction.

"Good. Now come with me. We'll be leaving as soon as I can round up some horses."

"If I may," she interjected, "My friend Moric owns a stable," she signaled to the man who had been watching their interaction carefully and he stepped forward, nodding to the officer, "He can get us some horses rather quickly. He is also a tracker. His skills may come in use if Rueben and his men are not at the cottage."

The officer scrutinized the shabby-dressed man before him before nodding his consent.

"Lead us to your stables, Master Moric. We must make haste."

* * *

><p>The moon hung high in the sky, its pale light twinkling along the surface of the water. The stillness of the night was disturbed by the sounds of crickets, the gentle flow of the river, and the popping and cracking of wood burning on a fire. Soon, another sound filled the air; soft and low. Legolas smiled fondly as he sat across from his husband who was currently singing an elven lullaby to the tired boy nestled in his arms.<p>

"_Sing we now softly, and dreams let us weave him!_

_Wind him in slumber and there let us leave him!_

_The wanderer sleepeth. Now soft be his pillow!_

_Lullaby! Lullaby! Alder and Willow!" _

With each verse, the boy's eyelids drooped lower and lower; the exhaustion from the day's activities finally catching up with him. Earlier, when the trio had arrived at the river's edge, they immediately went about setting up their camp. Eldarion "helped" his Papa pitch the tent and assisted his Ada in arranging a fire pit. Afterwards, the boy insisted on climbing the trees; an experience Legolas would forever cherish. His son proved to be a natural; leaping from limb to limb with a youthful efficiency. He had asked about the different types of trees, plucked a few leaves for safekeeping and simply sat and admired the view when they made it as high up as either parent was willing to go. When the sun had begun to disappear over the horizon, they used the remaining daylight to fish. The boy became completely drenched in the process and managed to soak his parents as well with his frantic splashing. So many memories had been made…and it was only their first day.

After the boy had fallen asleep, Aragorn continued to stroke his soft curls and gaze at his relaxed face. Whispering, so as not to wake the child, the man whispered,

"I have enjoyed today. I am glad we decided to do this. Seeing Eldarion with such joy brings joy to my own heart."

"I think you mean you are glad that_ I_ convinced you to do this," Legolas ribbed.

Aragorn smiled, "Indeed. Thank you, _meleth_. I must admit it brought me joy to see you so happy, as well. It has been too long since you were last among the trees."

Legolas' smile slowly fell and he stared down at his hands for a moment. The man furrowed his brows in concern, but before he could ask the elf what was troubling him, the blond stood and walked over to his spouse and child.

"I'll go collect more wood for the fire," he suggested, "You should go ahead and settle in the tent for the night."

He leaned down and offered the man a quick kiss before leaning even further and bringing his lips to his son's forehead.

"Don't be long," Aragorn said as brushed his thumb along the elf's cheek.

"I won't," the elf replied as he righted himself and with one last reassuring smile, departed into the woods.

Legolas walked far enough amongst the trees so that he could not be seen or heard, but close enough so that the faint glow of the campfire was still visible. Sighing, he brought his back up against a tree and slid down until he was sitting on the forest floor. He stared at the sparkling stars that littered the black sky and smiled. He had missed this – the feel of soil beneath his feet, bark against his palm, the light of the stars, the songs on the wind. He could have spent an eternity amongst such things, but he chose not to. He chose to forsake his immortality and lead a mortal life with the man he loved. He didn't regret his choice; it is one he would gladly make again. But after living a thousand years or so in the heart of a forest, residing in a city of stone with little warmth and fewer colors was dampening to the soul.

After a few moments of being lost in his thoughts, the elf rose and scoured the ground for twigs and branches. He had collected quite the armful of wood when he noticed how quiet his surroundings had become. No breeze blew, no cricket chirped, and tension pressed heavily upon his shoulders. He stopped his gathering and glanced around the darkened wood, eyes and ears on alert. Then, the trees bristled. His mind was assailed by an urgent message; the voices of the trees filling his ears. They all said the same thing: _Danger! Danger!_

In the distance he heard a _snap_; a sound so soft that none but an elf could have heard it. Heart racing, he jerked in the direction of the sound and peered through the trees. He stood in that position for what felt like eternity and then…he saw them. With a panicked gasp, Legolas dropped his load of wood and raced towards the camp.

* * *

><p>"We rest here for the night!"<p>

The officer, who Hadria had learned was named Fendrel, brought his small scouting party to a halt and began barking orders. Moric hopped off his horse and turned to help the woman down who had ridden behind him. Soon, a fire was made and bedrolls were lain out as the group of men readied for sleep. Moric plopped down on the ground next to Hadria and spoke quietly.

"After the stunt you pulled today, I certainly hope you have a plan," he said.

"I do. Assuming you've been keeping note of Rueben's tracks?"

"I have," he affirmed, "His path and ours diverged about two hours back. The last I saw they were heading northeast."

"Very well. We will retrace their steps," she announced, "As soon as we rid ourselves of this lot."

"And how will we manage to do that?"

Moric watched as the dark haired woman reached inside her satchel and began searching for something. When she appeared to have found it, she slowly revealed a small vial; one he had seen before.

"A sleeping draught?" he questioned.

She simply smirked at him in return before rising to her feet.

"Gentlemen," she said to the camp, projecting her voice just enough for all to hear, "Can I interest you in a cup of tea before bed? The night is chilled and I'm sure you are all weary from our travels."

As murmurs of agreement filled the air, Moric tried to hide his own smile as Hadria placed a kettle on the fire. With luck, all the men would be in a death-like sleep before the end of the hour and the pair can continue on with their original quest.

* * *

><p>As Legolas entered camp, he didn't even notice Aragorn sitting up waiting for him as he grabbed a pan of water and quenched the flames.<p>

"Legolas?"

The elf jumped at the voice, but upon realizing who it was, turned and grasped the man's forearms.

"Aragorn," the elf breathed, meeting his husband's eyes urgently, "Trouble is upon us."

The man's heart seized at those words. Trouble was the last thing he had been expecting but he could tell from the elf's palpable anxiety that it was real. He returned the grasp, trying to steady his unnerved spouse.

"What trouble?"

"A group of men lie in the woods," the elf began, "I saw them. There are about six, maybe more, they are all armed and they move in our direction. I sensed nothing but ill intention. I fear we must fight."

"No," Aragorn shook his head firmly, "We are outnumbered and with a child. We flee as quickly and quietly as we can."

"Impossible," Legolas denied, "They are already too near. They will hear us and they will catch us. If they've followed us all this way, they won't stop until they find us. We'll have to deal with them eventually. It might as well be now."

"No," Aragorn repeated, "I will not have our son near any danger! We must split. I'll stay here and fight them while you take Eldarion and run."

"Aragorn - "

"Legolas," the man broke off his husband's protest, "Listen to me. One of us has to stay with Eldarion. I will not send him running into the wilds alone as we fight a fight we may not survive. At least this way, he will be safe and be guaranteed one parent."

Legolas' heart sunk at his husband's implication._ Snap_. The pair turned toward the forest at the sound. The men were getting closer.

"Go! Now!"

Aragorn pushed the elf towards the tent as he lept to retrieve his sword. Biting back an objection, Legolas entered the tent and gathered up his sleeping son. He felt like crying. He belonged beside his husband. They fought best as a team, they always had. But the man was right; what of their son? He was essentially being forced to choose between his husband and his child, and though it pained him, Eldarion's safety came first. The boy stirred in the elf's arms and he opened bleary eyes to meet the worried gaze of his father.

"Ada? What's the matter?"

"Eldarion, I need you to listen. A group of men is coming our way, bad men. We need to go. You and I are fleeing south along the river and your Papa will join us later."

"What's Papa going to do?" the boy's voice shook.

Legolas couldn't find the strength to answer as he exited the tent. Aragorn approached them and cocooned the pair in a tight embrace, smothering the elf's mouth with his own.

"_Amin mela lle_. Both of you," he said as he kissed the top of his son's head.

"We love you too," Legolas whispered.

"_Kela! Nurta!"_

The man broke away and pushed the pair along. Legolas ran southward, not daring to look back. His son, however, could not resist. Looking over the elf's shoulder he cried,

"Papa!"

"Shh! Shh!" Legolas silenced him as he quickened his pace, "You will see him soon, _ion-nin_." _I hope._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>_

_**Kela- Go**_

_**Nurta- Hide**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Here's chapter three! Sorry for the delay, but unfortunately school works takes up too much of my time! Enjoy!**_

"_Papa!" _

The anguished cry from his son echoed in his ears, traveling straight to his heart and causing it to ache with an intensity he never wished possible. His paternal instincts urged him to run after the child and comfort him with words and touch, but his survival instincts kept him rooted to the spot. He tightly clenched his eyes shut; breathing in and out as deeply as he could while silently sending out prayers that he'd be reunited with his son and spouse soon. With that last thought in mind, Aragorn opened his eyes and steeled his gaze towards the woods as he steadied the grip on his sword.

The sense of impending danger made him hyper-aware. The habits he had picked up from his time as a Ranger resurfaced and he welcomed them gratefully. He heard every gentle rustle of leaves, every splash of stream upon rock, and…the footfalls of approaching men. The sounds of forest debris being crunched under boot steadily grew louder and it wasn't long before shadowed figures were spotted amongst the trees. The figures seemed to multiply as they drew closer; first three, then five until there were eight in total. _Eight against one_. The odds did not favor him, but then again, he had fought and won against far greater numbers.

Holding his ground, the king of men stood, sword drawn, as the brigands stepped through the safety of the trees and into the camp. His eyes swiftly ran over each man, making note of their stances and weapons. Three of them had bows and arrows, the rest had swords and daggers. Their clothes weren't the finest, tattered and stained as they were. The men appeared to be middle-aged, lines and stubble covering what was visible of their cloaked faces. They wore no marking that might indicate where they had come from which made it difficult to determine what exactly they wanted. Were these perhaps men of Gondor seeking a ransom? Were they assassins sent by a lord of another land to eliminate a perceived threat? As his mind raced, his body remained unmoving. There was no point in putting up appearances; these men came looking for trouble.

As they all settled into a semicircle in front of their king, a burly man sauntered forward, arms crossed.

"Well, well. Would you look here, gents," he announced sardonically, "Appears the king's wandered too far from his castle!"

The men snickered at the jibe. Aragorn ignored the blatant disrespect in favor of glaring at the stranger.

"Oh! Dear me, where are my manners?" the man feigned offense before swooping into a theatrical bow, "Rueben, son of Reginald, at your service, Your Majesty."

"I'd rather you not waste your breath on mockery and use it instead to state your purpose here," Aragorn replied, his voice laced with an authority that intimidated most men, but apparently not this one.

The stranger slowly rose into an upright position, removing his hood to reveal a head of thick copper hair that didn't quite reach his shoulders. As he lifted his face, he locked gazes with the king, eyes hard and determined, lips raised in a smirk.

"Tut, tut," his mouth turned downward in an artificial pout, "The king doesn't like to play. Very well. We'll get right to it then. You!" he pointed to the man furthest from his left, "Check the tent."

Aragorn started, knowing the man would find nothing inside but still opposed to being searched without an explanation.

"You won't move a single limb," Rueben interjected as Aragorn attempted to block the approaching stranger, "Unless you want to have an arrow embedded in it."

Aragorn glanced at the men surrounding him, two of which had arrows drawn and aimed directly at him. He clenched his jaw in barely contained anger. He didn't take too lightly to being threatened.

"Nothing!" a man called from behind as he exited the empty tent.

"Figured as much," Rueben sighed, unsheathing his sword and stepping close as he pressed the tip into Aragorn's chest, the pressure too light to pierce flesh but heavy enough to make its presence known.

"Where's that half-breed son of yours, Elessar?" the man probed.

Aragorn's eyes flashed and his body tensed at the insult to his son and Rueben didn't fail to notice. Smirking again, he pressed further, determined to break through the king's stoicism.

"Come to mention it, where's the elven whore who parades as your spouse?"

In one swift motion, Aragorn raised his arm, knocking the offending weapon out of his way while he hooked his foot behind one of Rueben's and sent the man falling to the ground. He straddled the man, using one hand to grasp the collar of his shirt while the other held his sword at his throat.

"Take care how you speak of my family, you bastard, or those words will be your last," the king spat, aware of the men who now surrounded him with weapons raised, but far too furious to care. If he died killing this man for the slurs made against his loved ones, it would be worth it.

Cautiously, Rueben raised his hands in submission, cool eyes never leaving those of the seething king.

"You seem to be a reasonable man, King Elessar," he began, speaking calmly and slowly, "If you kill me, my men will kill you and then continue on to get what we came here to get in the first place."

Tightening his grip, Aragorn drew the man's face closer to his own, "And what exactly did you come here to get?"

"Let me up and I'll explain everything."

Aragorn eyed the man skeptically.

"I promise."

The king knew any promises coming from this man were hollow, but still. Information was being offered and it was in his best interest to know it. With a rough shove to the ground, Aragorn released the man and stood. Offering a cunning grin that showed off a row of dirty, chipped teeth, Rueben stood and brushed himself off. The two men stared at each other, their mutual disgust obvious to all those present.

"I'm waiting," Aragorn broke the silence in a nonchalant manner, doing his best to disguise his eagerness.

After another brief pause, Rueben broke eye contact with the king to glance around at his men, seeming to have a silent conversation that made Aragorn begin to feel uncomfortable. When Rueben's eyes settled on Aragorn once more, his smile dropped and his face hardened.

"Tie him up."

Aragorn immediately thrust his sword into the gut of the man closest to him. A dagger nicked his upper arm and he swung around, dodging a weapon while stabbing the offender in the chest. Another grabbed him from behind and he reared his head back, breaking his attacker's nose. Suddenly, three men were on him at once. He managed to slice one on the thigh before his sword was knocked out of his hand and he was pushed to the ground. He made to get up but was stopped as a man loomed over him, arrow notched and aimed directly between his eyes. He met the gaze of the archer, surprised to find that the eyes seemed to be pleading with him, as if he didn't want to shoot him if he didn't have to. Looking more closely at his face, Aragorn noticed that this man was young, lacking the beard and lines that marred the faces of his companions. A wave of sorrow washed over the king as he was reminded of his son. Sighing, he raised his hands in the same way Rueben had done, allowing his wrists and ankles to be bound together as the bowman stepped way.

"You two!"

Aragorn turned his head in the direction of Rueben to see him singling out two men – a big, burly gentlemen and the young archer.

"Follow the river south," Rueben ordered, "The elf and the boy have obviously fled so see if you can track them. And you two," he pointed to another archer and a man with donning daggers, "Go north and see if you can find any trace of them that way. If you find them, bring me the boy unharmed. You have until sunrise. Go!"

Panic caused Aragorn's heart to beat wildly. These men wanted his son. Why? And what's more, they didn't care if they had to kill Legolas to get him. While his mind and heart were in turmoil, he outwardly tried to remain calm. He didn't want Rueben to have his suspicions confirmed by displaying an intense reaction.

The copper-haired man watched as his men disappeared from view. He hoped they wouldn't return empty handed in the morning. Turing around, he found the roped king glaring at him. He walked over to the man and plopped down on the ground next to him. Smiling, he said,

"That was an impressive fight, Your Majesty. For a moment there, I worried that you might actually kill us all."

_When I get out of these ties, I will most certainly kill you all_, Aragorn vowed silently.

When the king offered no comment, Rueben stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back on his elbows. He relished the fact that he, an ordinary man, now held power of this mighty king.

"I guess explanations are in order," he said with an air of amused indifference.

If his hands were free, Aragorn would have punched this heathen in the face. As it were, he knew the man was trying to get to him, like he took some form of twisted pleasure in taunting the monarch. So Aragorn remained still, disinclined to giving his captor any more satisfaction than he already had.

"What do you want with my son?" he demanded instead.

"_I_ don't want him."

Aragorn blinked.

"Then who does?" he asked forcefully.

That annoying smirk was back on Rueben's face.

"Tell me, Elessar," Rueben began, evading the king's question, "Have you noticed how things have changed recently? People not quite acting like they used to, an uneasiness dangling in the air, but no one is quite sure why?"

Aragorn didn't answer, but the flicker of surprise behind those grey eyes told Rueben that he knew what he was referring to.

"Ah, so you have noticed!" the man gloated, "And you've just decided to do nothing about it…"

"It's getting handled," Aragorn growled.

"Not well enough, apparently…"

"What is the meaning of this discussion?" the king interrupted, "What is it that you want?"

Reuben was unfazed by the outburst. Instead, he sat up and leaned in close to Aragorn's face. Aragorn drew back slightly, but his gaze never faltered.

"What I want," the man began, "is to watch your world fall apart and savor the tortured look in your eyes as you stand by unable to prevent it. The crime, the fear, the darkness - that's only the beginning," Rueben lowered his voice, "Something is coming, Elessar. Something that will only grow and spread until all of Middle Earth is consumed by it."

Aragorn was disturbed by the sadistic gleam in Rueben's eyes. His words made no sense and Aragorn wondered if he was delusional or if the man really knew something that he himself did not. Deep down, however, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was a truth to Reuben's words and that something darker and more powerful than he realized was at work. If that were the case, he needed to know more. Maybe he wouldn't kill Rueben after all; at least not immediately. He still had questions that needed answers…

"And what does Eldarion have to do with it?"

Rueben paused, scanning the king's face as if searching for something before grinning and looking down at his hands. When he looked at the king once more, his expression was serious.

"Everything."

* * *

><p>He ran hard. The precious burden in his arms did little to hinder his speed. By now, they were quite a distance away from their camp, but he had no intention of slowing. He didn't allow himself to think of Aragorn. He knew if he did, his heart would lurch and he'd lose his footing. Instead, he focused on his breathing; <em>in through the nose, out through the mouth<em>. His lungs burning the further and faster he ran. He focused also on the slight pressure in the pads of his feet each time they struck the hard ground. But most importantly, he focused on the light weight that was resting against his shoulder – he was the reason he was doing this after all. Eldarion had only recently stopped crying; his confused and tortured sobs now nothing more than quick, breathy gasps. Legolas did his best to comfort him, murmuring reassurances in his ear and stroking his back. He knew the boy had to be tired. Not only did crying tend to wear him out, but he hadn't had a proper sleep to begin with. He had been asleep for no longer than an hour before Legolas had roused him and carried him off into the forest with little explanation. He couldn't imagine what was going through his son's mind. Perhaps with some sleep his troubled thoughts would fade. He knew the boy would find no rest in his arms and so, like it or not, they'd have to stop soon.

As Legolas became preoccupied with deciding when and where the pair should rest for the night, he failed to pay proper attention to his surroundings. A low branch that hung out along his path caught him unawares and thwacked him across his left cheek and eye as he ran through it. The sudden sting made him gasp and he nearly stumbled.

"Ada?"

Slowing down, the elf brought a hand to his injured face, hissing as he gently ran his fingers along the welt that was beginning to form. His eye was watering profusely and he gave in to the urge to keep it closed.

"You're hurt," Eldarion whimpered as he placed a tiny palm on his father's uninjured cheek.

"It will be fine, little one," Legolas panted as he came to halt and gently lowered the boy to the ground.

Catching his breath, Legolas tore a strip of cloth from his tunic before grabbing his son's hand. He led the boy to the river's edge and dipped the torn cloth into the cool, rippling water. After ringing out the excess liquid, he placed the cloth on his cut cheek, wincing at the slight pain. All the while, Eldarion held his father's arm in a vice-like grip, observing the elf with concern. Looking at the boy with his good eye, Legolas sighed and drew him into gentle hug. The child complied, wrapping his arms as far around the elf as he could manage while resting his head on his heart. The steady beat was comforting to him. As an infant, Legolas had often lain with the boy on his chest when he was fussy, and even now, his son would seek that contact in moments of distress.

Stroking Eldarion's hair with his free hand, the elf broke the silence, "We will rest here for the night."

"Is Papa going to meet us here?" the boy asked softly, gripping the elf tighter.

"I … I don't know, _ion-nin_," the elf confessed wearily, placing a kiss on his son's head, "We shall wait and see in the morning. Now come."

Being near the river, great rocks were scattered along the bank. Legolas spotted a large boulder that was conveniently surrounded by shrubbery. It wasn't much protection, but it was better than nothing. At least they'd be partially hidden. He beckoned Eldarion to follow and eased his way between the rock and the bushes. Taking off his cloak, his slid down the length of the boulder until he was sitting on the ground and opened up his arms. The boy immediately settled into his father's lap and Legolas removed his bow and quiver, laying it on the ground beside him before wrapping his cloak around both his son and himself.

As his body began to relax, he started to realize just how exhausted he truly was. His legs and feet ached fiercely, adrenalin no longer blocking the pain. The left side of his face was starting to throb and his eye was swelling shut. It took all he had not to cry out in pure frustration. He wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in his husband's soft, warm embrace instead of the hard forest floor. But he wouldn't despair – he was alive, his son was alive and with luck, Aragorn was alive too. All that mattered was lasting through the night and making it to safety in the morning. He mindlessly hummed a tune as Eldarion snuggled against him. He gently stroked the boy's cheeks with his knuckles, gazing fondly at the face that so resembled Aragorn's. Within minutes, his son was asleep and he gratefully joined him soon after.

* * *

><p>Rueben refused to explain himself further. He figured his revelation was enough to warn the king without actually divulging any particulars of the greater plan. The less Aragorn knew now, the better. Oh, he would know eventually, but only when it was too late to do anything about it. He wanted Aragorn to worry, wanted him to suffer. So, instead of addressing the questions that now plagued the king's visage, Rueben yelled for his companion to get a fire going. With a final grin, he rose from the ground then left Aragorn alone with his thoughts.<p>

Aragorn knew the game that Rueben was trying to play – seemingly revealing everything without actually disclosing anything at all. Someone wanted his son – that much he knew. But why and for how long he knew not and he knew Rueben would say no more. He needed to get away. He needed to get to his son before these men did. If the former Ranger were to make an escape, now would be the opportune moment. The only people left in the camp were Rueben, one of his cronies and himself. He could easily overpower the two if only he were out of his damned restraints.

Casually surveying the area, the king of men looked for a sharp object that could potentially cut through rope. His sword would be ideal, of course, but it was too large and obvious, and its location currently unknown. He needed to do this discreetly, to take these men by surprise. He spotted a jagged piece of rock not too far from his left side. He glanced over at the two men, one of which was arranging sticks on a fire while Rueben watched. The red glow illuminated their faces and casted eerie shadows upon the ground. Slowly, he scooted towards the rock, eyes never leaving the two men. When he was within reach, he subtly slipped the object into his hands, arranging it in his palms so that the others could not see. He tugged his wrists apart, trying to loosen the ties as much as he could to give his hands more mobility. Rueben glanced over at him. Aragorn glared back, nothing in his expression or posture that could give him away. When Rueben turned back to his accomplice, he began sawing the jagged rock along the rope around his hands. Pieces began to fray away slowly but surely. He never lost sight of the two men, stilling his movements whenever they looked his way.

Minutes passed, the bonds were nearly cut when Rueben stood up suddenly. Aragorn paused. The other man stretched in a dramatic fashion before patting his stomach.

"Well, I do believe it's time I caught up on some sleep," Rueben announced, "All this hostage taking and kidnapping business has worn me out. And oh! Would you look at that! A tent is already prepared. Be a shame not to use it. Thellon, take the first watch. Elessar, get some sleep. If you're lucky, you'll get to see your family in the morning. Or at least the boy anyways, if only for a short while."

With a satisfied chuckle, Rueben strode in to the tent. _Perfect_.

Aragorn eyed Thellon. Though tall and broad of shoulder, he could easily dispose of the man. Plus, he'd have the element of surprise. He'd wait a while, long enough for Rueben to fall asleep, before making his move. When Thellon stared back into the fire, Aragorn sawed the rock more quickly until, with one final stroke, the rope fell in two. Smiling, he remained still and kept his wrists close together. Over the course of several minutes, he gradually maneuvered his bound ankles within closer reach. Then he waited. Thellon stood and twisted his back as if to pop it, giving a mighty yawn. With a final glance at Aragorn, he walked over to the river's edge.

_This was his chance_. Swiftly and quietly, he reached down and untied the knotted rope. He struggled a moment, for the knot was tight, before his legs were finally free. Holding the rope in his hands, Aragorn decided it was time. He lept up and snuck up behind the unsuspecting man. In one hurried motion, he looped the rope around the man's neck and pulled. With his airway cut off, Thellon could not scream or yell for help. He began to struggle, but Aragorn brought them both to the ground, pulling all the harder. Quiet, choked sounds filled the air and Thellon weakly clawed at the rope on his throat. After what felt like to Aragorn an eternity, the man's movements ceased all together. Cautiously, he released the body. As he stood, he looked down into a pair of bulging, unseeing eyes. _One down, one to go_.

Heading into the center of the camp, Aragorn scoured the ground for his sword. He saw a reflection in the corner of his eye. Turning, he saw his sword propped up alongside the tent, the dying flames shimmering across the polished blade. He retrieved his weapon, careful of making too much noise and took in a steeling breath. Soundlessly, he pulled back the flap of the tent, frowning down at the poor excuse of a man that continued to doze. Performing the action for the second time that day, Aragorn straddled the unsuspecting brigand, grasping his collar as he was startled awake. He smiled a feral grin at the surprised look in Rueben's eyes and held his blade to the man's throat.

"It's just you and I now, Rueben," the king of men gloated, "I should kill you where you lie, and believe me I much desire it, but as it were, you are of further use to me. So listen carefully, I am going to tie your hands and you are going to join me until I find my family. Then, we shall return to Minis Tirith where you will be arrested and thrown into the dungeons. While you're there, you're going to tell me all you know about this approaching threat, even if I have to torture the information from you myself. Do I make myself clear?"

Rueben glared at him.

"Inescapably so."

"Good, hold out your hands," Aragorn ordered, "Now!"

Once satisfied with the knot, Aragorn jerked the man up and out of the tent. He kept part of the rope long and untied so that he could use it to lead the man and make sure he didn't try to run.

"Keep up."

With a tug of the rope, Aragorn broke into a sprint, heading south. Rueben nearly fell at the sudden jolt but quickly recovered his footing and fell in place slightly behind the determined king.

* * *

><p>When his eyes flew open, the one thing he knew was that they were not alone. A second later, he once again heard the sound that had awoken him – <em>voices<em>.

"The footprints become closer together. See here? He must've stopped runnin'. Perhaps they are near."

Legolas started. He didn't recognize the speaker, but it was obvious the stranger was tracking him. Were these the same men who had found their camp? They had to be. But then what did that mean about Aragorn's fate? Had they overcome him?

Gently, and regretfully, the elf shook the sleeping boy in his arms for the second time that night. As sleepy eyes found their focus, Eldarion stared curiously up at his father.

"Eldarion," the elf whispered, "I need you to do as I say. I need you to get up and slowly walk behind me and climb as high as you can up into the nearest tree. Talk to them. Tell them you seek protection. See if they answer. And I need you to stay there. No matter what you hear or what you see happen to me, stay up in that tree. Do you understand me? Will you do this for me, please?"

Legolas knew they couldn't run. The night was shrouded in silence; their footfalls would be too easily heard by the men nearby. He hated the utter fear that plagued his son's eyes at his instructions, but it had to be done.

"I want to stay with you, Ada," the boy whispered tearfully.

Legolas hugged the child tightly and whispered in his ear, "Just do as I say, _ion-nin_. Do as I say and I'll join you soon after."

"Okay, Ada," the boy conceded.

"That's my brave boy," Legolas said as he pulled away, "Now go!"

As directed, Eldarion pushed away from his father and sprinted to the nearest tree, jumping up to latch onto the lowest branch.

"Please help me," he whispered to it.

Instantly, the tree started to creak and groan, rearranging its limbs to assist the boy's ascent.

"What was that?"

The two men stopped at the noise and stared out into the woods, their torch doing little to pierce through the surrounding darkness. As they began walking towards the direction the sound had come from, Legolas readied his bow. He crouched in the shrubs, searching with his good eye, remaining unseen until one of the two men came into view. Without giving so much as a second thought, he released an arrow, hitting the man square in the chest as he reached in his quiver for another.

At his friend's cry, the other man, the young archer, darted behind the safety of a tree and readied his own bow. As his companion fell to the ground, torch and all, he saw what had killed him. _The elf was near_. The archer steadied his shaking hands and peered behind the tree. As it did so, an arrow whizzed by his face. Gasping, he dodged behind the tree once more. At least now he knew where the elf was hiding. Taking a deep breath, he reappeared from the cover of the tree and fired his own arrow in the direction where the other had come from. He heard his arrow ricochet off of a hard surface, most likely a rock or tree trunk. And then he heard another small sound. _The elf was moving_.

Legolas lightly scampered behind a nearby tree after an arrow hit the boulder directly above his head. _This human is better than I thought_. From what he could hear, the other archer remained in the same spot behind the tree, completely out of sight. They could wait each other out, but that would only last for so long. If he wanted to be rid of this threat as soon as possible, he'd have to make a move. Unwilling to expose himself, Legolas thought how best he could eliminate his target. There was another groan that penetrated the still air. The trees. _Of course_. Silently, Legolas began climbing up the tree he was hiding behind. As he reached the sturdier branches, he released his hold on the trunk and slowly walked out on a limb. With his superior sight, he could now see the human archer. The man stood, back to the tree, peering over his shoulder for the elf. Legolas aimed and released.

Much like his first victim, the arrow caught the man in his chest. Crying out, he looked up. Thanks to the light of the moon, a figure was silhouetted up in the trees. With the last of his strength, the human notched his own arrow and sent it soaring up into the tree. As he sunk to his knees, he watched with a satisfied sneer as the figure was knocked from the branch. Before succumbing to darkness, the last sounds to fill his ears were a short cry and a loud thump.

**Oooo its getting dark! Sorry for the cliffhanger! Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated! :)**


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